A/N: Thanks to Qoheleth, I've been able to reformat my fanfic (since I copied and pasted it from AO3, the markup must've been left in). Sorry for the inconvenience and please enjoy!
This fanfic has 5 chapters all in all, to be posted weekly.
Run.
The shouts and curses of the people echoed in his head, louder than even his own feet thundering on the ground. At his every step jagged rock spiked up from his heels. Dust obscured his vision.
The border! If he could get past that, then… Tintin urged himself on, lowing the dust away and leaping over the town's sign. He skidded to a stop.
"Get out and stay out!"
As the people scattered, Tintin gazed up at the towering chunk of rock towering above the town. His creation.
How many had he killed this time? Ten? Twenty? He sat on the ground, clasping his hands over his knees. Pain pricked the pack of his throat. A weight settled on his chest.
The ground under him softened and sucked him downwards.
Quicksand! Tintin shut his eyes and swallowed down his raging emotions, holding them back. The ground hardened. He stood in the hollow and headed off in a trance.
After a while, the scent of salt stung his nose and he followed where it came from. The border of the cliffs welcomed him, the high tide lapping on the jagged rocks underneath. They invited him to come closer.
One step and another.
The rocks crunched under his feet.
Three steps, four.
Softening ground dragged him bit by bit downwards. Tintin shut his eyes and waited for the drop.
"Hey!"
Someone was staring up at him, waving his arms in the air. "Hey, you! Up on the cliff!"
Tintin stopped sinking. He stared back down at the boy under him.
"Yeah, you! Come on down, I need help with my boat. I'd do it myself but I can't."
He boat in question bobbed on the waters, drifting out to sea. The boy held its rope, trying to pull it back to shore. "Hey!"
Tintin stepped off the cliff, pillars rising to make stairs for him to descend on. Once he made it down, the boy stared at him, swallowing. "Wow."
Heat rose up to Tintin's face and he pulled at his collar, exhaling. "Let's—let's get your boat."
"Oh… oh! Right."
The two waded into deeper water, grabbing the boat's sides and its rope. Waves splashed around Tintin's waist, the chill biting into his joints and muscles.
"What's your name?"
"Tintin."
The boy flashed him a loose-toothed smile. "I'm Haddock. Archibald Haddock."
They pulled the boat to shore and Haddock tied it to a rock with so many complex knots. He patted the knot. "Now don't go off running off again! I've had enough of you."
Tintin took a step back.
"Thanks for helping me, landlubber! I appreciate it. Mind if you do those stone stairs?"
With a flick of his wrist, Tintin remade the stairs, Haddock's jaw flapping up and down.
"Wow!" Haddock rushed past Tintin, bounding up the stairs and exclaiming. "Blistering barnacles, this is so cool! Aren't you coming, Tintin?"
"Be careful." Tintin followed suit, every step he'd passed sinking back into the ground.
Oof, there he goes. Oh! Haddock laughed as he danced away from the edge of a step. Great snakes, he walks like a drunken man.
After a few more near-falls, Haddock made it to the top, Tintin close behind him. Before Tintin could say his goodbyes, however, Haddock grabbed his shoulders and stared into his face. Tintin started back.
"You're him, aren't you?"
Tintin's chest compressed. "W—who?"
"The guy who made that."
The pillar—his pillar—rose above them, stark against the heavens. Tearing from Haddock's grip, Tintin shrank back. So he's one of them. He hugged his body and exhaled. Id he doesn't move now, then he might as well be entombed in the cemetery across town—
"Hey, I didn't mean to hurt you." Haddock's voice was hollow. "I'm sorry. I just thought that whoever made that thing must be an amazing person."
Tintin sighed.
"You know, all that power over rocks—that's—that's really special." Haddock placed a hand on his shoulder and Tintin turned towards him. "Do you have anywhere to stay?"
Tintin glanced out at the expanse before them.
"I see. Come on, you can stay at my place."
"No."
"Why not?"
"You live in the town."
Haddock blinked. "And?"
"Well…" Tintin cringed and took a step back. "I'd best be going."
"No, no, wait!" Haddock seized his wrist and ran off, dragging Tintin with him.
Great snakes. Tintin stumbled over the uneven rock as they went, his breath whooshing out of him. When he reached out his free hand, the ground leveled. "Where are you taking me?"
No answer.
Still he bounced over with Haddock until they skidded to a stop. Tintin slammed into Haddock's back. "Ouch."
"We're here!" Haddock let go of Tintin.
They stood at the back door of a house. Haddock pounded on the door, Tintin wincing at every hit.
"Isn't that a little too loud?"
"Cutchbert's deaf as a rock."
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK "Cuthbert! It's Haddock!"
Nothing.
"Thundering typhoons, hang it all!"
Tintin gasped. "Wait—Haddock—"
Haddock threw open the door and marched inside. "Come on, Tintin!"
The whole house was made of rock with sparse decoration—apart from splatters and splashes all around. In the middle of the room a pale boy sat on a dull tapestry, holding up a ball on a string. "A little way east…" He stared at Tintin. "Oh, visitors!"
"Take a seat, Tintin, I'll talk to him."
"Who are you, young fellow?"
"Um… Tintin."
"Oh, no need to worry, it's no problem."
Haddock groaned. "He's Tintin, TINTIN!" He bent over and yelled it again into Cuthbert's ear. Chuckling and flicking his wrist, Cuthbert nodded. "I know, I know, no need to yell in my ear. I'm only hard of hearing, after all."
"I must be going mad!"
Tintin folded his hands on his lap and sat down beside Cuthbert. He opened his mouth but changed his mind and stayed silent instead.
"Cuthbert may be deaf, but he's got a noggin in that skull of his."Haddock knelt and placed his mouth next to Cuthbert's ear. "Cuthbert, this man needs a disguise. A DISGUISE."
"You can find them in one of the boxes nearby. And you, young man, I think you're the person in the posters all around town."
"…posters?" Tintin's heart stopped.
"Here." Haddock handed him a poster and shook his head. "Bounty hunters abounding on every single corner. All looking for you."
Tintin stared at his face sketched on the poster. Dark hair hanging down his cheeks, bangs reaching down to his eyebrows. Earthen eyes.
"You'll need a disguise." Cuthbert stood and strolled past Haddock, who threw up his hands and gestured towards Cuthbert as if to say 'Can you believe it?'
Leaning over to the draped window, Tintin peeked out to the streets. A trader passed, holding a gathering of collared slaves in his hands. One of them collapsed.
Tintin drew in a breath. The trader yelled curses at the slave, who didn't move. He pulled out a whip. A stab of fury wracked Tintin. His fingers twitched.
The face of a young boy with emerald eyes flitted in his mind. A school, crushed and decimated.
Tintin forced his rage down. Instead he balled his fists and shut his eyes.
Crack
Tintin flinched.
Crack
The cry of the slave echoed in his ears.
crack
crack
CRACK
"Enough!"
Tintin stood and slammed his foot on the earthen ground. Its force reverberated and sharpened rock shot out of the ground, knocking the trader over and shattering the slaves' chains. At this, Haddock ruched to him and drew the drapes closed.
"Are you mad? You'll get yourself killed!"
"I heard thunder outside, is it going to rain?"
"No, no, aghh." Haddock massaged the bridge of his nose. "Just—Tintin needs a disguise, fast."
Cuthbert looked Haddock up and down, chuckling. "Not at all, Haddock, you seem leaner, not fatter. Now, come over, Tintin, and I'll fix you up."
"I—" Tintin sat down and orange smoke engulfed him, burning down his throat and making him cough. His eyes watered. Somewhere in the clouds Haddock's voice came.
"Cuthbert, isn't that too much?"
"Not enough?"
"No!" Tintin and Haddock's voices echoed in unison.
"Very well, one more shot." Another bout of smoke enveloped them.
Once the clouds cleared, Cuthbert blasted Tintin with hot air from the furnace. Tintin's bangs flew back into a quaff and stayed there. A blur of clothes and powder whirled past him until…
"There! Look at yourself."
Haddock stared at Tintin, pressing his hand to his mouth and handing him a small mirror. "You—you're—" His voice shook, a quiet scream of laughter escaping.
"Great snakes!" Tintin slammed the mirror on the ground. "Great…"
"No one will recognize you, that's for sure."
"I don't look like myself."
"That's the point!" Haddock helped Tintin up. "Let me show you around town now that you're, well, unrecognizable."
"But—"
Before Tintin could retort anymore, Haddock threw a thin scarf over him, plopped on his own sailor's cap and waved him to come along. "Tintin and I are going to have a walk."
Cuthbert nodded. "Buy me milk too, please."
Haddock slammed the door, Tintin stepping back and wringing his hands as he gazed over the town. People. So much people. Some of them who's chased him out mere hours before. A woman met his eyes and he turned, wrapping his scarf around his head tighter.
"Nervous?" Haddock tapped Tintin's shoulders. "You'll be fine. Captain Haddock's at the helm, you shouldn't be worried at all!"
Tintin smiled. "Aye, aye, captain!"
But even then Tintin's stomach still curled inside him.
